Page 144 of The Company

I stare at him.

“What is this?”

I blink my eyes innocently.

“On first glance, it’s a drive with photos on it. Of a girl and her father and all their crazy times together. But that’s not what it is, is it?”

I say nothing.

“If people are looking for this, you better fucking say so. You understand? Because people are dead, Sasha.”

“I know,” I cry. “I know. But I swear I didn’t know this would happen.”

“So what’s on here?” he asks.

“I don’t know. But I’m afraid to keep it now. Yesterday morning I saw two guys who I know are supposed to be dead. They were standing outside the antique mall, smoking cigarettes. I knew… I just knew they were there looking for that drive. And I got scared and put it in with your gift-wrapped knife to get it away.”

“How the fuck did you know I wouldn’t hand it over to someone who shouldn’t have it?”

“I just knew.” I look up at Ford and silently plead with him to help me. “I just knew, Ford. You’re the only good person I’ve met in a very long time. And now my dad is gone and I have no one.”

He looks at my open door, then gets up and checks the hallway for my grandpa. My grandma can’t climb stairs and my grandpa isn’t much better. So they don’t come up here much. But Ford closes the bedroom door just the same and walks back over to me, not taking a seat this time. “Sasha, I’m taking this with me and I’m giving it to Merc. He works for these people. And something is very wrong here. But I’m not the right guy to help you, OK? I’m not the right guy.”

I realize I’ve been holding my breath.

“Merc is the one you need. So you’re gonna stay up here in the middle of who-gives-a-fuckville and keep your head down and your eyes open. If you see anyone, Sasha—and I do mean anyone—you use this phone.”

He hands it over. It’s one of those cheap ones you can buy at Wal-Mart that all the hunters have to keep in touch without the Company knowing.

“There’s only one number on there. You call Merc if you see anything and he’ll tell you what to do. When I leave here I’ll stop off at his place and we’ll have a chat. Then he’ll get in touch with you. But no matter what happens, Sasha”—Ford pauses to make sure I’m listening—“no matter what happens, you do not tell anyone about this drive and you do not tell anyone about me coming here today. Do you understand?”

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

And like it or not. Ford was right. He’s the wrong guy to handle this.

But so is Merc.

Because James… James is the only guy who can handle this.